He kisses me.
Just leans across the center console and presses his lips to mine, and oh my God, it's everything. Fireworks explode behind my eyelids. Goosebumps race across every inch of my skin. His lipsare surprisingly soft, gentle despite everything else about him being hard and rough.
It's over too fast.
We pull apart and just stare at each other. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide.
"Sorry," he mutters. "I shouldn't have—"
But I don't want apologies. Don't want him second-guessing this. My eyes drop… I can't help it, and there it is. That massive bulge straining against his jeans, thick and obvious and completely impossible to ignore.
He notices me looking. Notices where my gaze has landed.
"Fuck," he breathes. "I can't control myself around you."
Any other man saying that would make me feel objectified. Used. But hearing it from Danny, hearing the honesty in his voice, the frustration and desire mixed together, only makes me wetter. Makes my pussy throb and clench around nothing. Makes the dampness in my panties spread until I'm genuinely soaked.
"You don't have to control yourself around me," I whisper. "You can take what you want. I'll happily give it to you."
He swallows hard. I watch his throat work. "You shouldn't say things like that to a man as impulsive as me."
"I meant it. If you want something, I probably want it just as much as you do."
"I'm not sure about that."
"Then let me show you."
I don't think. Don't hesitate. Just reach over and put my hand on his bulge, feeling him through the denim. He's hard as steel, throbbing under my palm.
Danny's head falls back against the headrest. A low grunt escapes his throat.
I massage him through his jeans, feeling his thick length, the way he pulses with each touch. He's afraid of touching me. Afraid of hurting me. So, I'll show him I'm not as weak or shy as he thinks.
My fingers find his belt buckle. Undo it. Pop the button on his jeans. Drag the zipper down slowly. He lifts his hips and I pull his jeans down until they're pooled around his ankles.
His cock strains against his briefs. I can see the outline of it—thick, long, the head clearly defined. I lean down and press my lips to it through the fabric. Kiss along his length. Feel him throb against my mouth.
"Jesus Christ," he groans. "This is torture."
I look up at him through my lashes. "I won't make you wait any longer."
I hook my fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pull them down.
His cock springs free, hard and beautiful and pointing toward the ceiling. I've never seen one this big in real life. Never felt this kind of want seeing one. My hand wraps around the base or tries to. My fingers don't even come close to meeting. He's too thick.
"Fuck," I breathe.
I start stroking him slowly. Just watching. The way his cock head glistens. The veins running along the shaft. The way it pulses in my grip.
I can't wait anymore.
I wrap my lips around just the tip. Suck gently. Taste the salt of him.
Danny's chest heaves. His hand comes to rest on my hair. Not controlling, not pushing. Just steadying. Helping as I start bobbing my head, taking him deeper with each movement.
I go as deep as I can. Gag when he hits the back of my throat. Saliva drips from the corners of my mouth, down his shaft, onto my car's floor. I don't care. Don't stop. I need him to see how much I want this. How much I want him to stop being afraid and just take what we both need.
"You're so fucking good at this," he rasps.
